


Semi-Desperate Hours

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: (kind of), Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward First Times, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Criminals Made Them Do It, Desperation, Episode Related, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, Loss of Virginity, Missionary Position, Semi-Public Sex, Spontaneous sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23276743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Alter-canon for "Dog Day Blind Dates," in which Laverne realizes that being linked through eternity with Lenny might not be so bad after all.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio & Shirley Feeney, Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 6





	Semi-Desperate Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amythis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/gifts).



> This fic includes dialogue quotations from the Laverne and Shirley episode "Dog Day Blind Dates," slightly reworked for purpose. It's obviously not my property.

“…No, not them! Lenny and Squiggy!”

Shirley Feeney’s eyes bulged out, making the two crooks who were currently robbing the Pizza Bowl look like models of dignity. “Are you crazy, Laverne?” she asked urgently.

Laverne had to admit it was a wild idea. She barely liked Lenny and Squiggy on a good day. The idea of vodeo-do-doing with them normally seemed as remote a possibility as traveling to the moon, but with destiny calling her name it suddenly seemed a thousand times more tangible an option – even palatable. “Well, these are desperate hours, Shirl. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t think I want to go through eternity linked with Lenny and Squiggy,” Shirley said primly, resting her hand atop Laverne’s. “Besides, if it’s going to be anyone, it’s going to be Carmine Ragusa. He’s waited so patiently.” 

But as Shirley stared off into the distance, the fact that Laverne didn’t have her own Carmine to count on galvanized her actions. Talk about saving it for nothing! “I’m gonna do it,” Laverne said, getting up.

Shirley gasped, trying to lunge toward her arm. “Laverne! I’m not going to let you surrender to madness when you’re within spitting distance of Saint Peter!”

Laverne shook off. “Keep the creeps distracted,” she said. 

“But Lenny _is_ a creep!” Shirley yelled.

How had Shirley known which of the boys she’d pick? Regardless, Laverne shook off her best friend’s touch and barreled into the ladies’ room. 

Lenny and Squiggy threw their hands instinctively upward when she breached the ladies’ room door, but their eyes filled with confusion at the sight of Laverne standing there instead of Charles or Buck. 

“Squig, get out,” she said.

“Hey, since when are you the boss of me?” Squig asked. “Did you join up with the robbers or something?”

“I can’t blame her – they probably got better benefits than Shotz,” Lenny said.

Laverne rolled her eyes. Did she really want to lose her virginity to this man? Well, she had always liked skinny, tall, blonds, and she’d known Lenny for years.

“Squig, go. Now.”

“Fine!” Squiggy said. “Well, Len, whichever one of us gets shot first, I just know that in my heart of parts - I wish it was you!”

“Gee, thanks,” Lenny remarked as his best friend retreated into the restaurant. Laverne could dimly hear Shirley’s piercing shriek followed by Charles’ confused reaction. Miraculously, he didn’t come in. She grabbed the chair from under the sink and jarred it against the jam so no one could interrupt them.

Lenny watched her progress with confusion etched into his features. “Laverne, whatt’d you want – “ 

Whatever he wanted to say was cut off by Laverne’s embrace. She charged Lenny, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him. She pushed him back and pinned him down against the wall, her fingers buried in his slick hair. For once, Laverne didn’t mind the greasy messy she encountered. Lenny’s heart hammered away against her shoulderblade, and his hands tented against her back – seemingly afraid to make a move.

And Lenny – who had initiated hundreds of awkward make-out attempts before this day – was the one to push her away, making her feel strangely rejected and bereft for a moment.

“Are you crazy?” he squeaked, pulling back from her and yanking the hem of his teeshirt out of his jeans and tugging it down over his crotch. Unfortunately there was no hiding the formidable bulge her kissing had caused.

“Len, we might die in two minutes!” Her fingertips bit into his upper arms.

“Yeah, so?”

“So, I ain’t gonna leave this planet a virgin.” Letting go of him she unbelted herself, then reached behind herself and pulled off her sweater, then unzipped her turtleneck. Lenny blinked at her as she shimmied it down and revealed her bra, dumping the clothing on a relatively dry-looking part of the new, modern sinks. Part of her was afraid Lenny would panic and bolt right into Charles and Buck’s bullets, but instead he stood quiet and watched her with his big, wonder-filled blue eyes.

“Y’mean…with me?” He squawked. 

“Nah, I’m gonna do it with the air blower!” She snorted. “I’ve got four choices and I ain’t going to go with those robbers – and Squig ain’t my type.” She reached out and stroked his cheek, and Lenny flinched under her touch. “Besides, you’ve always seemed like a nice guy, Len.” She’d known him since she was six, and they’d been friendly just as long – but part of her memory had caught on the boy who would follow her around, voice cracking, insisting she could never resist him. 

Repulsed, but fascinated.

And yet he’d always been sweet. Kind to small animals and old people and little kids. Helpful at odd times, when he didn’t need to be, or when Squiggy wasn’t egging him into following his worst self. Sweet like he was being right now, not mauling her.

“Oh!” he got out, still ogling but not making a single motion toward Laverne.

She promptly unclipped her bra and slid it down off her arms, singlehanded. She wiggled her hips like a burlesque dancer in those stag reels Fonzie had shown once, after she begged him and as a partial reward for offering up the Pizza Bowl to the crucible of bachelor party hell, swinging the strip of material in the air, and then winged it into Lenny’s face. She stood topless in the chill draft of her father’s bathroom and Lenny remained motionless, with her bra dangling from the tip of his turned-up nose. 

She tapped her toes. “Len, if you don’t come over here and touch me, I’m gonna touch myself.” She slipped a hand down her stomach and reached for the hem of her brown skirt, lifting it slightly.

That goaded him into action. All at once he was on her, his lips taking hers, his hands squeezing her breasts in a way that enticed without hurting. But these weren’t the caresses that would rid her of her virginity – hungry, she pulled at his bottom until his hips were flush against her. Lenny groaned into her mouth – she felt his fingertips fiddle with her nipples, teasing without fulfilling, causing the desire in her to rise and rise without fulfillment in her body.

Laverne’s fingers scrabbled up beneath his jacket, felt the warm cotton of his teeshirt, still a little damp with sweat from helping Buck load money into his briefcase. She gently pushed him away and skimmed the jacket down his shoulders and put it on top of her sweater, then tugged at his teeshirt. Lenny got that off himself, and while his hands were busy she unhooked her skirt. She stood there in her stockings and shoes and panties, watching the bulge between his legs twitch its approval.

“Y’like?” she asked.

He bit his palm.

Well, that was an encouraging sign. “Okay,” she said, and grabbed that appealing bulge between his legs. “Get it out, Len.”

He leaned away from her touch as if she’d scalded him with hot oil. “It’s too soon!”

“We have two minutes before one of us dies,” she snapped. “Get your thing out of your pants.”

“Laverne, I ain’t getting my ‘thing’ out of my pants until you’re all hot and ready. Ain’t going diving ‘til the water’s wet,” he said firmly, crossing his arms over his bare chest, absurd in his dignity. “Don’t you know that much about messing around?”

Laverne was tempted to step on Lenny’s foot for even attempting to suggest she was dumb in the ways of love. She may have been a virgin, but she’d petted – petted with _Fonzie_ , thank you very much – and knew a few things about her own body that even Filthy Tony Picconi had not alerted her to.

She didn’t have time to be angry as Lenny pulled her back against his torso. He walked her toward the big mirror installed over the sink.

“Just stand here and let me hold you up,” he said. “If you’ve gotta, lean forward or back into me.” His right arm crossed across her front, cradling her against his belly, leaving his right hand free reign with her chest. His left snaked down between her legs, teasing her belly and tracing the seam of her pantyhose.

Then Lenny ripped the crotch out of her hose, and Laverne gasped and started in his grip. Lenny ignored the movement - he was tugging aside the lacy edge of her panties before sliding his fingers over her labia, his fingertips brushing and tickling through her pubic hair. It was a teasing touch, shocking in its lightness, and Laverne moaned through her nose, trying to stay balanced in her heels. 

“Lean on me,” he said again. She watched in the mirror as he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers before stroking her there again. Laverne would have flinched at his actions before, but now she found the gesture arousing. He spread the wetness he found between her labia around and upward, but seemed to be searching for something he couldn’t locate.

Laverne was indeed well-acquainted with her own body. She took Lenny’s palm and moved it up and over, until he brushed against her clitoris. Her body startled against him as she moved his fingers. “Right there,” she told him, and finally listed into his comfortable grip.

She guided him for a few minutes, then let go when Lenny seemed to absorb and understand the rhythm she wanted. When Laverne looked up, she saw Lenny’s face in the mirror – at the intensity of his focus, something she’d never seen in him before. She could feel her own wetness, and the smile that brightened his eyes suggested he could feel it too, but instead he concentrated on stroking around her clit, making circles, and then stroking the sides between his middle and forefinger.

Laverne had never known this technique before; she writhed against it. Then his right hand found her breasts and alternated between thumbing over the nipple and squeezing her entire breast, and she lost track of the ways in which he pleasured her.

Laverne floated away on the sensation, only knowing it was Lenny touching her this way, making her feel this pleasure. The kind that was worth defying robbers for. It was different from the petting sessions she’d had – and different from touching herself, the pleasure sharper when she wasn’t directing it.

While her brain still worked, she groped behind her, over her own hip, and plastered her hand to the front of his jeans. This time, Lenny didn’t fight her off. Laverne snagged his zipper between her nails and tugged it down, then slipped her fingertips inside and found him straining against the fly of his boxers – warm, hard and slightly wet. The tip of him left a slippery trail against her palm as she pulled him free of his confinement.

Laverne could see him in the mirror – appealingly thick, so stiff he was pointing skyward, and dark pink. Lenny shuddered against her back, and the hand teasing her clit grew aggressive, so she plied the head of his cock with teasing strokes with the ball of her thumb and is knees almost buckled. She hadn’t thought that move out – it nearly took her to the floor with Lenny.

He kept his balance, barely. “That ain’t fair,” Lenny whispered in her ear.

She had to tilt her back to kiss his jaw. “Sex is supposed to be fair?”

“It can be,” he said. Which she thought was enigmatic. She remembered, though, all of the moves she’d picked up with various boys over the past few years, and they were enough to make him quake.

That seemed to force Lenny’s fingers to stop teasing around her clit. Laverne couldn’t think straight after that started. The faster his fingers moved the wetter she became, and the harder it was to keep balance. Everything in her began to tingle with little sparks of pleasure teasing and waking her body to life – nipples to navel to clit to some spot deep within her she’d always yearned to touch but had never had the courage to try. She leaned back into him and held on to his dick, biting her lip as it got stronger and her legs automatically closed around his hand.

Lenny nibbled her neck, and then nudged her face with the side of his. She lurched up toward him for a kiss. All of the varied sensations collided and overwhelmed her body – His thumb pressing on her clit and carefully circling. His index finger and thumb plucking her nipple. His tongue in her mouth. Fire filled her and made her moan – she jerked in his grip, tension releasing in wonderful, rolling bolts of pleasure, her body softening and slackening as it relaxed. 

When she returned to the real world, Lenny was watching her. Laverne tried to block out the look of adoration in his eyes, and pulled herself out of his grip, letting go of his cock. She turned around and sat down on the edge of the sink.

“Am I ready?” she asked.

He nodded, and lifted his fingertips to his lips. He licked them just once, and she shivered. She watched quietly as he shimmied his jeans down a few inches, so she could see all of him – see how hard he was, how thick. Her pulse leapt. 

“How should I…?” It was a reasonable question she thought. The human body could bend itself in multiple directions after all – she remembered that from the stag reel, too.

“Like this,” he said, and gently parted her thighs with his hips.

“Okay,” she said nervously.

“I want to see your face,” he said sincerely, and something inside of her melted.

Lenny braced his hands on either side of her hips. “Uh, Laverne. This is the part that might hurt,” he said, leaning over the counter. “You might bleed…”

“Len, I know that,” she sighed, and wondered how he even knew that much.

“Oh,” he said, and his ears turned red. Then he leaned over her and kissed her lips. That was a nice distraction from her developing case of nerves. When Laverne felt something warm and wet brush its way through her pubic hair, then slip into place, she held her breath and braced herself, grasping his upper arms for purchase. 

“Are you really sure?” he asked.

She bucked her hips up against him in response.

Everything Laverne had read and heard about this moment suggested she was about to be subjected to groin-shredding, agonizing pain, but instead there was the smallest pinprick of a sensation – something she’d never really call pain – before the much stronger, stranger, and more arousing one of being filled replaced it.

Laverne opened her eyes once she felt the ticklish brush of Lenny’s pubic hair against her labia – she had all of him, could feel the tense heat of him pulsing against her. Aware of how wet she was from his fingers, she flushed when she realized how right he had been about preparation. 

Lenny hovered over her, watching her face with a combination of worry and passion in his gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked. His voice was throaty, low, and his eyes were steamy as they watched Laverne’s face.

She shook her head. Lenny cupped her cheek and kissed her then. Whatever he saw must have assured him that she wasn’t lying, because he began to move, withdrawing and then thrusting inward, her bottom sliding on cold wood until she began to pick up the rhythm and push back into him. All the while she held on to his arms – and he took her hips in hand to draw her closer, deeper into his thrusts.

Then reality collided with their fantasy. 

“Laverne!” Frank’s voice came through a loudspeaker like a heavenly judgment, “are you in there?”

She stiffened in Lenny’s arms and shot him a look of alarm. His face was a mirror of hers, utter fear in his gaze. 

“What is this?” Charles’ bark vibrated through the restaurant’s thin walls. “You got your own private cop?”

“It’s Laverne’s father!” Shirley said. “Let me talk to him.”

“All right, you can talk to him, but do it right here! And you, leather jacket, no funny business!”

“No funny business!” Squiggy gasped. “Why don’t you ask a clown not to have a red nose?”

“I’ll give you a red face if you don’t do what I tell you. Go ahead, talk, Shirley,” Charles said.

“It’s me, Mr. DeFazio!” Shirley yelled.

“Shirley! Are you and Laverne okay?” Frank shouted.

“Yes! We’re just a bit frightened!” Shirley said. 

“Don’t worry! You’ll be all right,” he said.

“Mr. DeFazio, I’m afraid there’s…been some bad news,” Shirley said. 

“What?” he asked.

“They blew up the can,” Squiggy yelled.

“That’s all right,” Frank said. “I’m just worried about the two of you.”

“Thank you,” Squiggy said.

“Not you! Laverne and Shirley,” Frank yelled. “Shirley, where is Laverne?”

“She’s…answering the call of nature!” Shirley said. 

Laverne looked right into Lenny’s eyes and they burst into laughter. The sound was muffled by their lips, the tiny kisses they were sharing. Laverne noticed suddenly that her belly laughs must have had some sort of effect on Lenny, because he groaned, his hips juttering forward, driving himself a millimeter deeper into her.

“All right,” Frank said. “One more thing – which one did they blow up? The men’s room or the ladies’ room?”

“It was the men’s room,” Shirley said, sounding on the verge of tears.

“Figures,” Frank remarked. “I just put in new towels. Don’t worry about anything! I got insurance! Does this creep have anything to say to the cops?”

“Tell them they got fifteen minutes before I toss out the brunette!” barked Charles.

Laverne tried desperately to block out her own guilt. Fifteen minutes. Well, that was a hair more generous than what they’d had before, and she could probably get out there to help Shirley if they wrapped this up quickly.

Lenny was apparently devoted to using those fifteen minutes to the fullest from the careful, measured strokes he kept using. Laverne vowed to do the same – after all, there was an art to vodeo do-doing that she had yet to grasp. 

Lenny must not have been lying when he bragged to her that he and Squiggy had been entertaining “gorgeous chickernoonies” in their spare time, because his stamina and the way he moved those hips of his – little tiny circular motions that made sparks dance over her skin - were practiced and painfully arousing. It satisfied the tingling desire deep inside of her, but it wasn’t quite bringing her over the edge, even as they began to speed things up. She tried to follow him and invent her own counter-motions, until he moaned her name and pulled her bottom almost entirely off of the sink.

Laverne watched his expression shift above her – joy, pain, determination, adoration. She teetered on the razor edge of excitement when Lenny pressed his forehead to hers. 

“Coming,” he chanted, the words a gush of a whisper. Some tiny, wiser part of Laverne’s mind told her to drop to her knees, to take him into her mouth or her hand, to avoid the collision. Instead her legs crossed high over Lenny’s hips and drew him down into her strongly on his shorter, jolting downstrokes, and her hands tangled up in his hair tonic-covered locks. 

Either the gesture of acceptance or the speed of their movements drew Lenny to his climax. She pinned him to her mouth to absorb his moans and his fingers tightened around her hips, hammering up into her frantically before his whole body froze on a moan, jerking in her grip, rocking against her. Warmth filled her up and spilled over as he trembled within her. Laverne simply held him closer, let his arms wrap themselves around her, let him finish.

Minutes passed before he stopped rocking in her grip and slumped in her arms. Laverne held him up silently, stroking his back until Lenny heaved a sigh and righted himself.

Then he reached between them and gently brushed his fingers between her legs. It only took a little bit of stroking to coax a very brief but very sharp orgasm from Laverne, the last few pulses of which squeezed him from her body.

It was her turn to pant and float. By the time she’d returned to herself, she heard water running. While she’d been out of it Lenny had gotten his jeans and teeshirt back on, occasionally shooting her furtive glances as he tried to clean the proverbial scene of their crime.

She felt a little bereft. “Len?”

He scrambled a few steps over. “Yeah?” he asked and took her hand. “Whattya want, Laverne? I’ll…”

But then again… “I’ve gotta pee. Help me down?” Her legs felt like Jello.

“Oh,” he remarked quietly, and lifted her easily to the ground. Laverne hobbled into the open stall nearest the sinks and shut the door, sat down and quickly relieved herself.

Her scattered mind danced in a million different directions- she had vodeo-do-doed with Lenny Kosnowski and it had been good; her best friend would probably die in a few minutes if she didn’t hurry; _she_ would die, too, soon enough; there was no way she could leave the bathroom with her pantyhose in this state. 

The last was easily remedied – she took off her shoes, shucked the hose and balled it up in her fist. Still dazed, she flushed and came back out in her now-righted panties and heels.

Lenny had been combing his hair in the mirror when she did so, and the sight of her made him pause and turn around, his posture compact, as if afraid of a blow. She made a move toward the sink to wash her hands. “Wait a second,” he begged. As she did, Lenny turned toward it instead, dampened one of the fresh towels her father had put in and slid to his knees before her.

Fear filled her; would he propose? But instead, he took the wettened towels and washed her inner thighs of the streaks of blood and come that their lovemaking had left behind.

That somehow felt more intimate than actually taking him into her body, and she squirmed under his touch. Lenny’s fingers were reverent, gentle. It was a long way from the guy who used to peep on her at slumber parties, the guy who drunkenly threatened to heave her father’s oven into the street if he didn’t see a naked woman posthaste.

Lenny tilted her head, when he noticed how she was watching him. “What?” He stroked her thigh once, before standing.

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you were the kind of guy who would do that.” 

Lenny shrugged. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Laverne,” he said quietly. Then he tossed the towels away into the trash. 

True. Did she want to find out what kind of guy Lenny really was? She remembered how he made her feel – how he could make her feel even when they weren’t naked – and her emotions ran riot. Laverne washed her hands and dressed herself, tossing away the stockings in the interim, but Lenny helped even with that, handing her the skirt, getting her zipped back into her top. When she finished, he offered her his comb. She took it reluctantly and tried to fix her hair.

And all the while, as they both listened for some sort of commotion in the restaurant outside the ladies’ room door, he watched her. Lenny spoke up suddenly. “Laverne? I just wanted to say I’m glad it was me,” he said.

“I’m glad it was you, too.” She meant that, she realized suddenly.

“Really?” His eyes lit up. 

“Yeah,” she said, tapping her fingers nervously against the edge of the comb. Why not let him die with the happy truth in his mind? “You were gentle and nice, and it was real good, better than I ever thought I’d get.”

He shook his head. “Yeah. But you deserved better than a bathroom sink your first time out,” he declared.

“I wouldn’t have had it happen any other way…” she shrugged. “Minus Shirl and Squig being in danger out there.”

His eyes went wide. “It’s real quiet.” She clutched his upper arm. “You don’t think…”

Lenny shook his head. “Wouldn’t we’ve heard the gunshots.” She winced. “Let’s try and sneak out.”

They inched to the door together, and she carefully moved the propped door away from the front of the ladies’ room entry.

They entered the restaurant just in time to see Shirley sneak up behind Charles, call his name, and deliver a monster of a right cross to the side of his face when he did so. He cracked his head against the counter and lost his grip on the gun, which was retrieved by Squiggy – who’d been standing right behind Shirley, apparently ready to pull off a second attack if her failed.

As Shirley ran from the building, shrieking for the police all the while, Squiggy pointed the gun in Charles’ direction. “Nobody move! This is a stick-up!” he said.

“Dummy! Whatt’re you trying to do, get us arrested?” Lenny asked.

That was when the cops burst through the front door, demanding everyone freeze. Laverne did, even as Shirley tackled her with a huge hug. Two more popped into the room through the men’s room door, making Laverne wonder if she and Lenny had accidentally given them a show. She wanted to die and melt through the floor in her embarrassment.

One of the cops looked over at the boys and said, “I never saw such skuzzy lookin’ hoods!” 

“No no – they’re just skuzzy! That’s the robber!” Shirley pointed at Charles. “The other one’s in the alleys!” 

Squiggy returned the gun to the police’s safekeeping, and as Charles and Buck were cuffed Laverne vaguely heard Buck trying to claim he’d met Charles randomly in a dirty bookstore. Part of her wanted to ask him for the place’s address, but she just concentrated on clinging to the emotionally exhausted Shirley. 

“Goodnight, ladies,” Charles said – and had the actual gall to approach Laverne and caress her cheek. “It was a lovely evening.”

She backhanded him, then stepped back as the police hauled him away. Then she said, aside to Shirley, “I dunno if I should’ve done that. I mean, he paid for dinner…”

“Laverne!” Shirley cried.

“I’ll call you in eight to ten,” Charles said. 

“I’ll be sure to change my number in five,” Laverne replied tartly. She couldn’t stop Shirley before she confronted Buck to complain about his awful poetry, a feisty fist pointed right at his chest. Laverne looked over her shoulder at Lenny to roll her eyes fondly at her best friend and saw him watching her intensely.

“Hey,” he said, and approached – two officers covering his movements. Without noticing them, Lenny shucked off his satin jacket and draped it over Laverne’s shoulders. “It’s supposed to be cold out there tonight.”

She stroked the sleeve, giving him an awkward smile. “Thanks, Len. Won’t you freeze?”

“Nah. Just put it on top of my locker when you get to the brewery Monday. But uh - are you uh…free on Saturday? We could go see _Jailhouse Rock_ ,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looking somewhat abashed.

She nodded, letting her heart lead the rest of her being for once. “Yeah! I’d like that.” 

“That’s great!” his eyes were bright and blue, and he didn’t bother to conceal his happiness from Shirley.

“Wait a minute!” Buck complained. “He didn’t even buy y’all dinner and you’re going out with _him!_?”

“That’s why crime don’t pay, pal,” Lenny said. They sneered as the cops removed Buck from the restaurant.

“Not the way they do it. Boy, whatta long night,” Squiggy remarked.

“What was so bad about it? You got to spend it with Shirl!” Lenny said, as they walked away.

“So what? It ain’t like I got something off of her. At least you got to see the inside of a ladies’ room. And Laverne’s panties…” Squiggy said, smirking.

To Laverne’s amazement, Lenny didn’t bite his palm but kept loudly defending her honor as they left the room after shooting her one more furtive look.

Once they were alone again, Shirley spun on her heel toward her best friend. “Laverne…” she said. Laverne braced herself for a lecture, but instead Shirley seized her by the shoulders. “We’re alive!” she shrieked. 

Laverne picked up the chant. Reality dawned upon her as they hopped in place. 

She was alive, and likely would be for a long time.

Which meant she was going to have to live with the fallout of her actions. 

Which were: she had definitely gone all the way with Lenny Kosnowski and liked it. That Lenny was definitely still sweet on her and would be doubly so now that he’d gotten her cherry and gone skin-to-skin with her. She might even be dating him now that she’d said yes to that movie. She was definitely wearing his jacket, which in some weird Lenny custom might mean they were going steady. 

And she might have a dead rabbit on her hands in a few months. A slim chance, but one that hovered in the air and she had to firmly ignore. She’d think about it tomorrow.

“Laverne! Shirley! You all right!?” Her father arrived to interrupt her thoughts, which was kind of a relief. He joined them in a three-way hug, and seemed so relieved to note she was whole that he didn’t remark upon the jacket.

“I’m gonna go upstairs, I gotta lie down,” he said, after ascertaining they were both fine.

“Didn’t you see your bathroom, Pop?” Laverne asked.

He gave her a doleful look. “I did. It’s out on the street.”

“I’ll turn out the lights,” Laverne promised. She told Shirley that they needed to live each moment like it was their last, as Shirley tossed her coat over. “From now on, I’m gonna do everything I ever wanted to do,” she said.

“Everything?” Shirley asked pointedly. The look she got was one straight from the judgy Barb Feeney playbook.

Laverne gave her a sideways smirk. “That’s right. Tomorrow, Laverne DeFazio starts living.”

“I know you’ve been through an ordeal tonight, Laverne,” Shirley said. “But that’s no reason to continue to give up a lifetime of morals and ethics.” 

“No no, I made up my mind, Shirl. Tomorrow, I’m gonna go get a facial,” she said.

Shirley laughed, relief evident in her tone as she buttoned her own coat up. “Good! I thought you were gonna do something smutty with Lenny on Saturday.”

“Why do you think I’m gonna get the facial?” Laverne asked.

Shirley flinched. “We’re gonna talk about this when we get home,” she hissed.

“I know,” Laverne said. “Do you wanna know how big –“

Shirley’s pained shriek echoed through the Pizza Bowl as Laverne flicked out the lights.

*** 

Lenny kept his lips sealed all the way through his long trip back to his sister’s place, in spite of Squiggy’s frantic begging.

“Come on!” he said, pulling to a stop in front of the right building. “I’d tell you if I got something off of Shirl! How was it?”

“You would not!” Lenny said, remembering well that Squiggy had been very vague when Lenny had assumed that Shirley and Squiggy had done it after catching them in the break room together a few weeks ago. Which was why he’d assumed Shirley was crazy about Squiggy, and why Lenny’s gossip had in turn almost gotten Squiggy’s clock cleaned by Carmine. 

“Maybe so,” Squiggy said. “But it’s still a violation of the code of brotherhood!”

“Squig, I ain’t gonna tell you what it was like!” Lenny said. “Some things a guy’s gotta keep to himself.”

“Swell. When she dumps you and you need another boulder to cry on, don’t go looking for me!” Squiggy snapped.

Lenny repressed the urge to shout at Squiggy that everything was different now, that he’d been made into a new man by the simple act of Laverne’s trust and her gentle loving, and that she was sacred to him and would never dream about telling the world about what they’d done, but he didn’t have the ability to be that articulate. So he wrenched open the truck’s door, shouted, “fine!” and slammed it. 

The walk to his sister’s apartment, which he quietly snuck into, was filled with thoughts of Laverne and what they’d done. He remembered the feeling of her, the taste of her, as he rinsed himself in the shower and grabbed a quick snack before kneeling down to pray.

He had no idea what to ask God for that night. For his date to go well? For the rabbit to die? Were either of them ready for that?

Instead, he gave up a prayer of thanksgiving. For bankrobbers, for beautiful women who meant absolutely everything to him, for driving games and ladies’ rooms with sturdy sinks.

He started naming their babies as he drifted off to sleep. 

Just in case.

*** 

Laverne came out of the bathroom after a long, hot shower to meet the disapproving eyes of her best friend as she waited in her bed, Boo Boo Kitty in her grip and her hair done up in a net.

Laverne let out a sigh. “Shirl…” she began.

“Laverne, I’m going to begin with one word.”

“What?” Laverne asked.

Shirley tilted her head back and let out a long, high-pitched scream.

Laverne rushed her, her eyes bulging out, shaking her shoulders. “Shirl! You’re gonna wake the neighborhood up here!”

“I’m sorry,” Shirley said, forcing herself to silence. “It’s simply…a lot to take in at once, and I did almost die tonight. I mean, one minute we were talking about babies and facials, the next I was telling Charles you had messed yourself and Lenny had gone to help you to cover up the fact of your fornication with him.”

“Aww geeze…”

“It was a sensitive moment and the most delicate way I could phrase it.” Shirley squeezed Boo Boo Kitty close to her breast, as if she were trying to still cling to her innocence.

Laverne gave a self-depreciating laugh. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Desperate hours, right? Well, it’s not like I meant to walk into the Pizza Bowl and lose it tonight.”

“Losing it is one thing,” Shirley said. “But what about Lenny? Why did you agree to go out and see him Saturday night?”

Laverne shrugged. “We had a good time,” she admitted. “I wanted to see if we’d have another one – and not just a smutty one. I dunno, Shirl. He was real nice and gentle with me.” She lay back against the bed with a sigh. “You should really talk to Carmine about his…uh, patience. You’re missing out here, Shirl.”

Shirley’s ears turned beet red. “Maybe so, but it’s worth missing out on, to maintain my ethical purity. And Lenny? Gentle? Are we talking about the same man?”

“You weren’t there, Shirl,” Laverne pointed out. “He treated me like a queen. There’s a lot you don’t know about him.”

“Well, there’s a lot I don’t want to know about the boy. But you’d better be careful,” Shirley warned her. “You know he’s got feelings for you. If you can’t return them, don’t string him along like I did Ned Stern.” 

“The big time doctor?”

“Yes,” Shirley said, “now don’t mention his name to me ever again.” She reached over and turned off the light. “Goodnight, Laverne.”

“Night.”

Just before Laverne sunk into unconsciousness, Shirley spoke up.

“Vernie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you had a good first time. Even though it was in your father’s bathroom.”

“Thanks,” Laverne said.

“I just hope the rest of your future’s as magical.”

Laverne had no idea what the future really held. She wasn’t making any big plans with Lenny. Not yet. 

But when she closed her eyes, she started naming their babies.

Just in case.


End file.
